Her Smile
by The 1000th Kiss
Summary: I hold Roger while he sobs, all the while wanting to cry myself. I notice a picture of April on his night stand. She's smiling. Had it not been for the power of her smile, she would still be here. She would still be with us.


**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

As I sit here in my room staring at the walls with a worn copy of _Hamlet _sitting on my lap, I listen. I listen for any kind of sound that can confirm whether or not anyone else is awake. How could they not be? After last night, I'm sure I'll never sleep again. How could this have happened? Why couldn't we see it coming? What was it that prevented us from preventing this? It couldn't have been her eyes or her personality. Those two things about her had changed so dramatically over the past few months. She hadn't seemed as happy as she'd used to be and her eyes always looked like they were filled with tears-even when she smiled to make it seem as though she was fine. That was it. It was her smile.

Her smile deceived us. All of us.

I glance down at my copy of _Hamlet. _I stare at the words of the familiar, famous soliloquy.As cliche as it may seem, the line that sticks out to me on the page is the very first one: "To be, or not to be-that is the question." I remember the first day I read these words. I was the only high school freshman in an Advanced Placement English class. The discussion that followed the reading of the soliloquy opened my young eyes and made me realize that a word could be added in two places in just the first line to summarize the entire meaning of it. The word is "dead." Adding that word would make the line: "To be dead, or not to be dead-that is the question."

I can't help thinking of the events of the previous night as I read the line over and over again, mentally inserting the word "dead" where it would go. After reading it at least fifteen times, my brain completely ignores everything except the imaginary word "dead."

"Dead," I say aloud. Dead. April is dead. I still can't believe it. I'm the one who had to clean the bathroom and I still can't believe it. In the weeks before last night, I'd noticed she'd spent a lot of time alone. She had to be planning this for quite some time, but none of us could really tell. She just kept smiling. That smile . . . I'll never forget it.

I place my copy of _Hamlet _next to me and walk to my door. I hesitate before opening it and stepping out of my room. Benny is sitting in the armchair near the couch. He looks at me and says nothing. Daylight is spilling through the window and highlighting Maureen, who's sitting on the couch. Other than turning her head to look at me, she remains completely motionless. I walk over to the couch and sit down beside her. Her cheeks look flushed and tearstained and her eyes are red. We stare at each other in silence for a moment before she starts crying. I open my arms to her and she buries her face in my chest. Benny puts his hands in his lap and looks down at them. Maureen's body is shaking from her sobs. I stroke her curls and kiss the top of her head.

"Get the fuck out of here, Mark!" Roger sounds angry. Maureen pulls herself out of my arms and we both stare at Roger's bedroom door. Benny's attention remains on his hands. I silently wonder how long Mark has been in Roger's room.

"I'm just trying to help you!" Mark shouts.

"You _can't _help! Just leave me alone!"

"If you'd just explain to me-"

"Why would I waste my time? You'll _never _understand what I'm going through right now! The love of my life is gone and I have AIDS! Until one of those things happens to you, you can't help me! Now, get out!"

"I've been at this for four fucking hours, Roger! If you wanna be a hermit instead of talking about it, fine! I don't care anymore!"

"FUCK YOU!" There's a loud crash that I conclude is the sound of something breaking before Mark opens Roger's bedroom door and pulls it shut with so much force the floor quakes a bit. Benny finally looks up as Mark sits on the couch on the other side of Maureen, puts his head in his hands, and sighs heavily.

"I can't get through to him," he says. He takes his head out of his hands. "I was just trying to help him and he threw a lamp at me. Who the fuck does that?"

"It _is _a lot to take in," Benny comments. Mark is silent and Maureen places her hand on his leg. It's quiet for a long moment. Mark wraps an arm around Maureen and she leans her head on his chest. Benny stares straight ahead. I can't keep my eyes off of Roger's door. After a while, I stand up. My three friends look up at me. I feel their eyes follow me as I walk toward Roger's bedroom. After grabbing the doorknob, I take three deep breaths before opening it and walking inside. I slowly close the door behind me.

Roger is sitting on his bed in his plaid pants and a black T-shirt. His cheeks, like Maureen's, are flushed and tearstained, but his eyes seem angry. I glance to my left and see the broken ceramic lamp that he had thrown at Mark moments ago. Roger's eyes remain on me as I cautiously walk toward the bed. I sit down on the edge of it and meet his gaze. He looks like he's trying to burn a hole through my head. A few seconds pass before I decide to speak.

"Roger-"

"Let me guess," he interrupts. "Mark told you he couldn't get through to me, so you decided to come in and try to be the big hero, right?" My eyes narrow.

"Look, Roger, I know you're in a sea of emotions right now, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people who only want to help your scrawny ass any type of way, got it?" I tell him. "Now, here's what's gonna happen: you're gonna tell me exactly what you're feeling at this very moment, I'm gonna do my damnedest to help you out, both of us are gonna leave this room, and you'll apologize for throwin' a lamp at Mark."

I slide closer to him and his glare fades. He actually looks a little scared. Sometimes I love being able to intimidate people so easily. Roger opens his mouth and shuts it at least six times. I stare at him and wait for him to say something. Anything. I watch a tear fall from his eye and roll down his cheek. He wipes it away as another one falls. Soon, tears are falling faster than he can wipe them away.

"Fuck!" he shouts as tears stream down his cheeks. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I slide even closer to him and, just as I did with Maureen, I open my arms to him. He catches me by surprise by wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my shoulder. "Why . . . why . . . ?"

"That's it, Roger," I say softly. "Cry it out. Let it all out." I hold Roger while he sobs, all the while wanting to cry myself. I notice a picture of April on his night stand. She's smiling. Had it not been for the power of her smile, she would still be here. She would still be with us.

"Why did she leave me, Collins?" Roger sobs. "Why did she leave me?"

"She didn't leave you. She's still with you. She'll always be with you. You just have to remember her the way she was. Remember whatever you loved most about her." Roger takes his arms from around me (I do the same to him), lifts his head, and looks at the picture on his night stand.

"The thing I loved most about her is her smile." I think back to the weeks leading up to last night. Her smile. Her deceiving smile. The smile that tricked us into thinking she was happy. The smile that she used to hide everything from us. From Roger. I want to tell him about her smile. He deserves to know about it.

His attention is back on me and . . . I can't bring myself to tell him. I don't have the heart to. He loved her so much. I can't just ruin his loving thoughts about her because of a theory. I pull him into another hug.

"Then that's what you remember," I tell him. "Remember her smile and she'll always be with you."

**Review please.**


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